Bloody Silk
by Lady President Romana
Summary: For all she acts tough and in-control, she's terrified. [NOT Alex/OC.]
1. I

1**Author's note: Hello out there! So, this would be my first venture into the [admittedly not-so-vast] land of A Clockwork Orange fanfiction. I do hope my Nadsat is up-to-speed, and that I can keep my OCs** **far out of the Mary Sue spectrum. This first chapter is mostly just a vehicle that I'm using to introduce my OCs, Katherine and Julian, and their positions in relation to the rest of the characters, so it might be a lot shorter than any of my other chapters in this story. And yes, Alex is in this chapter. This takes place about three months post-chapter twenty, though it's before chapter twenty-one. :D**

"_Avoiding danger, in the long run, is no safer than outright exposure. The fearful are caught as often as the bold."_

_-Helen Keller_

"Kate?"

"Hm?"

My eyes flicker over to my friend Julian, who's casually leaning against the side of the building that we had been hanging out near. His short black curls flying in all directions. His dark brown eyes meet mine, and he lets out a small sigh.

"Do you think we ought to be out here?" he asks quietly, shifting position so that he was fully facing me. "I mean, you know we could get in serious trouble for hanging out where we shouldn't be."

I shrug, moving my hand out to grab at the can of cola that sat by my side, "Oh, it's not a big deal," I reply. I try to sound nonchalant about it, but the truth is, I'm a bit scared as well. Not just because we could get caught [I mean, what can the police arrest us for? Sitting? Drinking fizzy? We're barely bothering anyone], but because of those... gangs, for lack of a better phrase, that prowl around the streets at night. Those groups of boys who called themselves nadsats. I wasn't stupid, despite what my marks in school might have to say about the matter, and I knew about some stuff. Not much, but I knew enough.

I'd moved to this town when I was seven, a painfully awkward bookworm with mousy hair, and timid eyes. Julian lived next door, and we were fast friends. He was everything I wanted in a friend. Kind, supportive, smart, and hilarious. With him, I was something a bit more than just plain old shy, awkward Kate. We told each other everything, we'd been in most of the same classes in school, liked all the same stuff, and our personalities just somehow _clicked. _Friendship like this should be impossible to attain, something that you only saw in films, or read about in books.

It'd been my idea to head out and explore tonight. Usually we only hung out at the cinema, or at one of our houses. Julian had been hesitant at first [Hell, he still seemed it] but he eventually warmed up to the idea.

Now we sat in some nook of land a few blocks over from our street, leaning against the wall of some random building, and telling stupid jokes. We may or may not have actually been on a huge sugar high from the soda [Julian had insisted that we split it down the middle, three for each of us] because even the stupidest of jokes seemed like the funniest thing ever. We stared at the stars, with Julian, in his infinite creativity, making up constellations, and pointing them out to me.

"Why have you got cold feel all of a sudden, huh?" I asked with a small giggle, giving Julian a friendly poke on the shoulder.

"Hmph," Julian doesn't dignify me with a response, reaching out to grab his own can of soda, and draining it in a few moments. "Do we have any more?" he asks me.

I shake my head, "Nah. I've got the last one," I reply taking another sip to prove my point. My can is about halfway empty, maybe a bit less than half. "Because unlike you, I can actually take my time with sugary drinks."

I said all this with my head tilted slightly skyward. Julian raises one eyebrow playfully, tapping me on the shoulder. I turn my gaze to him, quirking the corner of my mouth to the side in question.

"Can I have the rest of your fizzy?" he asks finally, his brown eyes growing wider in a mock plea. Clearly, he knew I wouldn't give it to him. Still, I grinned jokingly, grabbing the can from beside me, and holding it up at arm's length, away from him.

"If you can get it, you can have it," I say, keeping my tone light. The grin never left my mouth as he reached a hand up and attempted to get at the soda.

"Oh, that's unfair," he says, shooting me an exaggerated pout, "You know that's totally unfair."

"Those are the rules. Go," I jump up from my seat, dangling the can just further out of his reach, making sure to keep a firm grip on it so that I didn't drop it.

"You're making me _work _for it?" he asked with a long moan of annoyance, "What if I don't get up?"

"More soda for me, then," my tone is suddenly chipper, and Julian narrows his eyes at me for a bit, before standing up and lunging at me.

"You are making this _way _more fuckin' difficult than it needs to be!" he grumbles, reaching his hands out in an attempt to grab the can. I'm trying my hardest not to let the can topple out of my hand, dancing around the small space between the buildings with [admittedly clumsy] speed.

"That's what I _want!" _I let out an uncharacteristically girlish giggle, as he runs a bit closer to me, finally managing to get close enough to reach out his hand, and...

_Thunk!_

The can falls onto the pavement, clunking onto its side, the dark brown soda pouring out of the top. Julian's not looking at me, however, nor is he looking at the can. I'm confused for a moment. Julian's generally pretty good at sports, and things like that, so he should've been able to get the can. I follow his gaze, my cheeks flaming bright red when I see that the reason he dropped the can was because someone else had decided to join us.

He was a tall bloke, dressed in all white [a weird choice for the middle of the night, especially when he clearly didn't want to be seen], with dark hair, and bright blue eyes that seemed to stop Julian and I both in our tracks.

"Welly welly welly," he rattled off, swinging a black cane around nonchalantly. His eerily bright eyes seemed to bore into mine with such an intensity that I had to look away. I was like a deer caught in the headlights. Christ, when did I become so timid again? "Appy polly loggies. I did not know that I was to viddy such a veshch today."

I gulped, looking over at Julian confusingly, as if to say _What the fuck is he talking about? _This must be the nadsat slang I'd heard about... which meant that this guy was some sort of gang member. Really? He looked far too pleasant, if a bit intense, to be one of those... monsters, for lack of a better word.

"Dear brother," now he was directing his words towards Julian, leaning idly against his cane, "Were thou not fast enough to skvat that can of fizzy-wizzy from the little devochka?" He let out a dark chuckle at his own joke, and I noticed that one of his eyes was framed with a garish false eyelash. An odd choice but not much odder than the rest of his outfit. Was that a codpiece? Seriously?

"I was just about to get it," Julian grumbled, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, "You distracted me."

"Did I?" he looked shocked, though it was more of a slightly exaggerated acting than it was any actual surprise, "Dost thou shvat me for a shoot, brother? And what about you, little sister?" He turns those creepily bright blue eyes on me, taking a step forward. In response, I take a step back. He just laughs.

"Are thou scared of Uncle Alex, darling?" he asks, his tone playful, but his eyes looking at me a bit _too _closely. They're roaming my body like I'm some model in a magazine, and it creeps me the hell out.

"No," I manage, standing up a little straighter, "I'm not scared. Why would I be?"

"The slovos say one thing, but the glazzies say another," he replies lightly. I can barely understand what he's saying, but I've got the gist of it. He can tell I'm a bit scared.

Well, that's certainly not good.

He's still on the other side of the alley [I hesitate to call it that, because it makes it seem like we're in a sleazy part of town, when we're really not that far from my and Julian's houses], and really not that close to us at all. He takes another step forward, and I flinch a bit, toying with the hem of my t-shirt in anticipation. He keeps swinging his cane around like he plans to do something with it, his head tilted slightly downwards, staring at us with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

We all stand in silence for those few agonizing moments, before he speaks again.

"I haven't introduced myself all nice and proper, have I?" he reaches one hand up, grabbing his bowler hat at the top, and taking it off, bowing politely. "Alex DeLarge, choodessny to make your acquaintances. And what, may I inquire, are _your _eema, brother? And the eema of your lovely devochka?"

"I'm, uh, Julian Smith, and this is Katherine Moran... and she's not actually my, uh... devotchka," Julian shakes his head quickly, "What I mean to say is... we're just friends."

"Just droogies?" Alex replies, slighly mockingly, "So you don't filly with her? Not odin, not ever?"

"What, is that supposed to mean _fuck_?" I ask, growing a bit angry. I mean, who was this guy to randomly assume that just because we were friends who happened to be of the opposite gender, that that automatically meant that we were shagging like bunnies?

Alex, however, remained calm. "Lower thou goloss, pet. Do not govoreet so like gromky. The millicents might slooshy thou, and then where would thou be?"

"You mean the police?" I'm beginning to get slightly exasperated with him, though I do quiet my voice a bit. Better safe than sorry, after all, and some of those cops liked violence just for the sake of violence. No better than the common street thugs, once you really thought about it. "Speak _English_."

"It is quite zammechat how fashed thou seems to become," he laughs, as if we were supposed to understand what he was talking about, "Dost thou believe I govoreet in chepooka? That is to mean, nonsense?"

"Oh, so _now_ you give us a flippin' translation," I roll my eyes, looking back at Julian. "Do you want to go?" I ask him, deliberately ignoring Alex.

Julian glances back over at Alex, who waves at him in a brotherly fashion. "Yeah," he nods at me, and then turns back to Alex, who's managed to move away from the exit of the alley, and seems to be gesturing for us to go on our merry ways.

As we walk past him, Julian gives some attempt of a goodbye, muttering, "It was a, uh...pleasure to meet you, Alex," he says with a small nod.

"And you, Gromky Julian," he gives him a small mock-salute as Julian walks out, me following right behind him. Before I can duck out of the alley, however, Alex reaches a hand out and grabs at my shoulder, turning me so that I faced him. He had a sort of amused smile on his face when I flinched at his cold hands.

"I'll certainly viddy you soon, Kitty-Cat-Katherine," his voice is slightly more hostile than the cordial tone he had employed previously, his hand digging sharply into my shoulder, blue eyes boring into mine. He holds me there for a few moments, both of us staring at the other in silence. My eyes were filled with fear. Was he going to pull me back into the alley? Beat me up? Rape me?

"Kate?" I hear Julian's voice coming from outside the alleyway, sounding as far away as anything, even though he couldn't have gotten that far away.

"Itty along, darling," he lets me go with a slight shove, and I shiver a bit as I dash down the street, finally catching up to Julian after a few moments.

"What was that about?" Julian look s at me with concern in his eyes, "Did tall, dark, and codpiece want another word?"

I waved a hand nonchalantly, though I could still feel a slight tingle on my shoulder where he had grabbed me. "It's nothing. I dropped an earring."

"Well, if you're sure..." Julian didn't look too convinced, but nontheless, we walked back to our respective houses in silence. Once we got there, he promised to call me tomorrow to talk about what we'd do the following evening. I nodded, and tried to look excited, but inside, my stomach was doing flip-flops. I just hoped that whatever we did, Alex DeLarge would _not _be there.


	2. II

It's been a month since the Alex incident. Julian and I figured pretty quickly that going back to that alley would just be stupidity in action, especially taking into consideration how Alex had been swinging his cane around with the air of someone who used it for much more than walking.

We consoled ourselves with trips to the cinema, and just hanging in our houses, listening to records. That was where we were right now [My house, that is.], me leaning my head against the headboard of my bed, and Julian sitting at my desk, and scribbling down some sort of drawing in his sketchbook with coloured pencils.

Julian's a bit of an artist. And by 'a bit', I mean that he's insanely good, and I'm often genuinely confused that he hasn't won any awards for his art. He's usually got his sketchbook with him, and if he's not doing anything else, he's drawing.

The music that's currently floating through the room is 'One in a Million', by the Heaven Seventeen. Julian doesn't see the appeal of them, thinks they're trashy pop crap, but I can't get enough of their new album. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, but what can I say? I'm a major sucker for a well-placed synth beat.

"I ca-an't take my eyes off of youuuu!" I sing, intentionally off-key for the sole purpose of annoying Julian, "Because you're one in a million! And that's what I say-ay-ay!"

"Could we turn this off?" Julian spins around in the chair, giving me a slight glare of annoyance.

"We could, but then we'd be sitting in silence, because this is my last record," I reply with a shrug, "We listened to all the others. I'm not you, you know. I don't have a giant record collection in my room."

"I thought you had the Kelly Affair's album," he looks at me confusingly, reaching a hand up to scratch behind his ear with the end of the red pencil he held.

"I /did/," I respond with a shrug, "Lily's borrowing it for the week. I'll have it back by Tuesday, she said."

"Yeah, but you know how Lily is about returning things," he says bitterly, "She still hasn't given me back my pastels."

"She'll give me back my record," I wave a hand flippantly, "And if she doesn't, I'll get it back. Somehow."

"Why don't we just pop off to Melodia?" Julian turns back to his drawing grabbing a brown pencil from the box and shading in one of the trees in the forest landscape. "You've got enough money for a new record, don't you?"

"I think I do," I frown, hopping up from the bed to go check my pocketbook. I generally consider myself to be very responsible with money, which is why I don't blow it all on records like Julian does. He fancies himself an expert in all things musical, and just loves collecting records of classical music, and from musicals and Broadway shows. Like I said before, he tolerates pop music, but generally considers it to just be a bunch of trashy synth beats and autotuned singers.  
I rummage through my small black bag, pulling the wad of bills out of the side pocket and counting them up.

"I've got enough, plus some for ice cream," I report, "I'll have to ask my mum, but I think I can go. I'll go ask, you call yours, alright?"  
Julian nods, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone, and dialling his home number. I run out of the room, and down the stairs, stopping at the edge of the stairs, and peeking my head into the kitchen door.

"Hey, mum?" I ask, my skirt swishing around my knees from my stopping short, "Could Julian and I pop off to Melodia for some records? And maybe to get some ice cream too?"

Mum turns around, her dark eyes catching mine in a slightly confused look as she tries to remember Melodia, to remember if it was in a sleazy part of town or not.

"Sure," she nods, wiping her hands on her slacks, "As long as Julian's mother and father are okay with it."

"All-riiight!" I grinned, rushing forward to peck her on the cheek, sliding across the linoleum in my socks.

"Don't slide in the kitchen, Katherine," Mum chuckles, "And be back by eight, alright? Do you have money?"

"Yep, I do."

"Does Julian?"

"Yes, he does."

"Okay," she gives me a warm smile, "Have fun, alright?"

"Mhm," I grin, ducking out of the kitchen, and back up to my room.

"Your mum said you could go?" I ask Julian, who nods, as he slips his phone back into his pocket.

"Yeah. Just told me to be back by seven," he replies, standing up from his chair, "Mind if I leave my sketchbook here, and pick it up tomorrow?"

"No prob," I nod, grabbing my pocketbook off my bed, and motioning for Julian to follow me.

He does, though before we can leave, a small 'pling!' sounds through the room.

"That you?" I asked. Julian nods, grabbing his phone and holding up up to his ear.

"Helloooo?" he asks, listening for a moment, "Alright. Mhm. Okay, I'll tell her." He clicked his phone shut, turning back to me.

"My mum says make absolutely sure to be back by seven."

? ? ?

Twenty minutes later, we're in Melodia, browsing the records with the occasional comment by Julian about how so-and-so's band sold this amount of copies this week, and oh, didn't so-and-so's band lead singer get caught kissing this other band's drummer the other day?

I just listen, because when Julian gets talking about music, he could literally go on all day. I learned long ago that when he went off on one of his tangents, it's best to just nod and try to keep your sanity in check. I sifted through the various records, pausing to take a lick of my ice cream cone. We had stopped at a cart on the way in [Melodia seemed to be getting gimicky. Well, more gimicky than they had been before. But hey, ice cream was ice cream, gimicky or not.], and Julian had insisted on paying. I'd already told him I had enough to get ice cream, but he had insisted, and what kind of girl would I be if I turned down free ice cream?

I have a weakness for strawberry cones. Don't judge me.

"I'm gonna go off and check out one of the listening booths, 'kay?" Julian waves the record he had picked out to prove his point. Handel. Of course. Perfectly pretentious, which is exactly like him.

I nod in response, taking another lick of my ice cream as he wandered off. I flick through the records for a little while longer, admiring the surreal artwork on a Meatloaf album for a moment, before sliding it back into the pile. I stay like that for a few moments, listening to the light music that echoes throughout the shop, and sifting through the piles of records on file, before I feel someone else coming up behind me. I keep my eyes down, content to avoid human interaction for the time being.

"Mind if I cut in here, little sister?"

My stomach drops.

That voice.

I _know_ that voice. That was the voice of Alex DeLarge.

Fuckin' christ. And here I'd thought I'd managed to lose him for good. Maybe he wouldn't recognize me.

I nod, shuffling to the left a bit, and managing to keep my head down, my light blonde hair forming something of a curtain between us. I lick at my ice cream lightly, attempting to distance myself from him slowly.

"Are you enjoying that malenky mouch, love?"

Holy shit, is he really talking to me? The hell?

"Uh..." I mumble, trying to get my brain to work correctly. I was not gonna be slow. Not here, not now, and definitely not in front of him.

I notice vainly that he wasn't wearing the white monstrosity that he had sported the last time I had made his acquaintance. Not that this outfit is any less eye-assaulting, it being a dark purple coat that looked like something out of an classical music album cover. He didn't wear the fake eyelash either.

I shuffle to the side a bit more, sifting through the records in an attempt to put even more distance between us. This does nothing, however, as he still seems to realize who he's standing next to.

"Kitty-Cat-Katherine, is that _you_?" Alex grinned, stepping forward, and moving his face uncomfortably close to mine, "And where art thou droog? Julian, was that his eemya?"

Well, the jig was up. I tucked some hair behind my ear, taking another step back, and glaring at him. "Julian's at a listening station," I said sharply, "Also, kindly attempt to keep yourself out of my personal space."

"Thou art rather nadmenny, aren't thou?" Alex grins, taking a step closer, as if trying to creep me out even more. That was probably his goal in the first place. Creep me out. He took another step closer, and leaned his head down, taking one lick at the top of my ice cream cone, and coming off with a considerable amount. He swallowed it with a triumphant grin on his face, as if he expected me to throw myself at him right then and there.

"Ohmygod, was that your way of flirting with me?" I couldn't help myself- I actually snort. "I'm real sorry, mate, but if you think taking a lick of my ice cream is the way into my pants, you are sadly mistaken."

The grin slips off his face. He takes another step closer to me, rather too close for comfort. "Now, now, pet..." he starts off, his voice lowering, and becoming slightly more threatening. I gulp. As if in response, he puts a hand on my shoulder, slowly trailing towards my neck. I begin to think that maybe I was justified in thinking he wasn't so innocent as he appeared. Surely someone would see this, and put a stop to it? Oh god, why did I have to laugh at him? He looks dangerous like this, staring down at me like he was some sort of predator. Why was I so damn short? He looks around six feet. Jesus, I was stupid. I glanced around, looking for someone, anyone who could possibly get me out of this situation.

Contrary to that assumption, everyone else in the store seems to be purposefully avoiding confronting us. Alex seemed content to hold me there for a few more agonizing moments, with his hand lightly ghosting up my neck, a predatory smirk crossing his lips. One thumb lifted for half a second to brush across my cheek mockingly. With any other guy, it would seem a motion of endearment, but with him, it seemed like the sole reason he did it was to gauge my reaction, trying to see how far he could take it before I snapped on him in the middle of the record store.

I could almost understand why nobody was coming to my rescue. From an outside perspective, his gestures seemed nothing more than affectionate, but I knew that he didn't feel affection for me. He was the lion, and I was the gazelle. I was his prey. I let out a tiny, involuntary whimper, which seems to make Alex's smirk grow into a full out smile.

"Art thou scared of baddiwad Uncle Alex?" he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side a bit. I don't respond, biting down on my lip softly. "I assure thou, my lovely, if I had my way, I would cause you to creech to Bog much more gromky than any horn you've crarked in your life."

Though his tone is hushed, it's sharp and deliberate, and I find myself giving an involuntary shiver of fear. This guy was more than a common hoodlum, he's scary, and he's dangerous, and he's talking like he wants to _rape_ me.

I manage to gather enough willpower to wriggle out of his [admittedly not strong] grip, to which he seems incredibly displeased, but didn't make any move to stop me. His bright eyes shoot up, just beyond my head, and I realize that he is no longer looking at me.

"Gromky Julian!" Alex exclaims, his expression of malice from less than a moment ago gone, and replaced by a look of happiness. "And how are thou on this choodessny morn?"

"Good," Julian replies, his voice a bit worried. He glances over to me, when I realize that I'm still shaking a bit. I stand up a bit straighter, tucking some hair behind my ear, my hand still wrapped tightly around the base of my ice cream cone.

"Kate... you alright, there?" Julian asks me, cocking his head to the side a bit, his dark eyes filled with concern.

I nod, reaching one hand up to awkwardly scratch at the base of my neck in an attempt to alleviate the awkward feeling. "Yeah, yeah, I'm cool," I reply, nodding eagerly, realizing just then that I'm sweating a bit.

"Katherine and I were just having a malenky chat," Alex shrugs, and I'm shocked at how utterly innocent he appears. If I hadn't been privy to a glimpse of his darker side, I'd be totally convinced that he was as innocent as he made himself out to be.

Julian clearly isn't buying it, however. He deliberately ignores Alex, walking closer to me, and asking, "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nod, smiling up at him. He clearly realizes that it's completely faked, but nonetheless put his arm around my shoulders protectively. A contrast to Alex's threatening, intimidating, and possessive touches, Julian's seem more like he was trying to help me out. He asked, "Did you get the record you wanted?"

I shook my head, "Couldn't find anything. C'mon, let's, uh... go. It's almost seven, and you know how my mum gets about missing curfew." I force out a chuckle, and Julian cracks a smile as he leads me out.

Hesitantly, I glance backwards at Alex, who just smirks and waves at me condescendingly. As if in response, I toss my remaining ice cream cone into the trash, and turn away.

** Author's note: Geez, Alex is a creep, huh? Just for the record, this isn't rated 'M' for any graphic sex or rape. Not that I have anything against it, especially in ACO fanfics, but I'm just generally not good at writing that sort of thing, not to mention the fact that my parents would probably kill me if I put it in. It may or may not be alluded to in the near future, [Which is why the rating is warranted] but nothing will graphically be shown on screen... page. **

**To clear anything else up, in the story, Alex is eighteen, and our two protagonists are sixteen. I've decided to focus more on Kate, just because she's the one with more investment in the canon characters [read: Alex]. Julian will be explored too, but Kate is most definitely the main character of this piece.**

** In my mind, Alex looks like Malcolm McDowell in the movie, Kate looks like Candice Accola, and has an American accent, [America is where she moved from] and Julian looks like Andrew Garfield. :D**

** Whoo! That was a long-ass author's note. Thanks for putting up with me. Updates will be sporadic, because I'm lazy. Remember to R&R!**


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